


it only takes a taste

by Waistcoat35



Series: they slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered [9]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: After Barellis ThomasxBrownies is my second OTP, Brownies, Fluff, M/M, Sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24705193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waistcoat35/pseuds/Waistcoat35
Summary: "I saved you a piece."
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Series: they slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772770
Comments: 12
Kudos: 70





	it only takes a taste

Thomas descends the stairs again after dinner - the family have arrived back late and thus he's had to abandon his own tea, halfway through, to go up and serve them - contrary bunch that they are. He's not sure how Carson has managed to get so sentimental about them all - the children are different, partly because they are altogether more considerate than their grown counterparts and partly because the adult Crawleys have never pronounced his name with an endearing lisp and insisted he stay to read to them - when he's always made such a song and dance if one of the servants has inconvenienced him, but will turn his own life upside down for the sake of the Earl of Grantham. (He knows about the instance when Carson abstained from drinking out of respect for His Lordship and his ulcer - Mrs Hughes had told him all about it in an outrage over tea, the night after he took over as butler and they were both up late. It is not the level of aristocratic devotion he will be aiming for, thank you.)

Now he's back downstairs, an hour later, bitterly mourning the dregs of stew that will have most certainly gone cold, if they haven't been thrown away. Secretly, he hopes he hasn't missed pudding.

He arrives downstairs.

He has missed pudding. Thomas is quietly devastated - behind the fact Richard has popped by from visiting his parents for the evening and Thomas is _missing it_ , this is the worst part about suddenly having to abandon his dinner. He squints at the empty tray on the table, smeared with chocolate and crumbs, and realises that the pudding had been brownies, for the first time since his birthday seven months ago. He might actually cry. 

He hears a soft clearing of a throat from the corner, and glances over to find Richard sitting in the rocker. After being given permission, and perhaps revelling in Thomas' concern for his back injury and the benefit the chair might have on it, Richard had not hesitated too much in using it, and from how emotional he'd looked the first time, Thomas is glad. He gives a little nod, somewhat embarrassed that he hadn't noticed him there before now, and slightly sulky in that burning, almost upset way he feels when he knows something doesn't matter that much, but feels unfair anyway, and makes his way over. He eases himself down into the chair opposite Richard's, glad for the rest after standing for so long, and before he's even managed to say hello Richard is gingerly extracting something from a hidden pocket, wrapped in a napkin. Thomas takes it when it is held out to him (he's never made to take things, is he? He's always simply offered them, before he can even think of wanting or deserving them - it started with the watch fob, and hasn't ended since) and unfolds it to find -

An entire, untouched square of brownie. Never mind - he might cry after all.

"Saved you a piece," Richard says, and he looks _sheepish_ , the daft bugger. "I was going to wait a bit longer - drop a few hints, maybe - but I don't think I've ever seen you look _that_ unhappy." (He has, of course - long days or longer nights when it's all been too much for Thomas to keep inside, until things have spilled over like an overfilled bucket, first in his mind and then from his eyes, and Richard has held him the whole while. But that isn't to be talked about just now, and he's glad for it.) 

"Did - did you even get your own piece?" He asks, still a little dumbfounded. Richard nods far too quickly to be telling the truth (and how is he such an excellent liar to everyone _but_ Thomas?) and Thomas breaks it roughly in half, handing Richard a bit, and glaring when he tries to refuse. 

"Richard, this is _Mrs Patmore's chocolate brownie_. I'm not just doing this for you, I'm doing this for _us_ ," he insists, and Richard snorts. He still takes the half, though. 

When they're both done, Thomas looks at him consideringly and, not for the first time, feels rather spoiled in terms of the joy he has found later in life. _Thanks, Crawleys,_ he thinks. And then he doesn't. Think, that is. 

"I could really kiss you, right now," he breathes. Richard raises his chin in the way he always does when attempting (and failing) false bravado. 

"Go on, then. Noone around." 

And Thomas most _certainly_ does. 

Afterwards, they pull back and regain their breaths, still pressed close together, when Richard's mouth quirks up into a smirk. 

"What?" Thomas asks, tentatively. 

"I'm just starting to wonder, is all," Richard begins, "whether that kiss was just so you could taste the chocolate one more time."

"I reserve the right to not answer that question, _at all_."


End file.
